Then something else happened. Something Bonnie didn’t expect. Her body went limp and she was no longer afraid. She watched as the thing’s razor sharp teeth stopped snapping and the mouth opened wide. This was it, and Bonnie knew it. She wanted to utter the words, and she wanted to tell her daughter who she never knew that she was sorry that she had to give her away. That is was the best thing. That it was the only way she would have a chance at a real life. A tear ran down her cheek, but this time it wasn’t a result of hate, but of regret. If she could have just turned her life around, said no to her addictions, then things would have been different. Things would have been better, and she might have known her daughter.
The thing lunged forward, mouth wide. For Bonnie there was no pain. Only darkness and no more. The creature’s mouth chomped down hard around her head. Its razor sharp teeth sank into her skull with ease. Pulp, brain, and matted hair erupted as the thing finished biting down. As it came away chewing with intent, Bonnie’s face was gone. All that remained was her neck and most of her chin. Had anyone been there to see it, they might have been able to make out a small sliver of her bottom lip. The bones crunched in the creature’s mouth as blood and mangled gore ran down Bonnie’s neck. When the creature let her go, she limply slumped on the mattress. Visceral muck slid from the opening in her decapitated neck onto the mattress, with blood and urine soaking into the springs and fabric.
At that moment, the feasting really began.
The dangling limb of the thing, which had been strangling her, reared back. The tip of the gray arm pressed open like a mother giving birth. Only it wasn’t love and life that came forth. It was black acidic goo and death. The black pasty sludge oozed out and covered Bonnie’s corpse.
The black fluid ate through her skin with ease. The tissue bubbled up, smoking as it cooked, slowly causing the muscles and bones to melt. The acid in the goo was eating her away into nothing, but a pile of paste and bloody gore. Once the body was only a heaping pile of mush, the creature feasted. It thrashed violently over the remains. As it devoured its bounty, blood and visceral bits splashed onto Brian, whose eyes were still rolled back utterly oblivious.
By the time the creature was done eating a very dead Bonnie Fletcher, Brian was standing outside the back door of her hideaway. As if nothing ever happened, he wiped tobacco from his lip and pulled the twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, eager to finally get something to eat for the first time in two days. As Brian walked away from the old diner, the only thing that was left of Bonnie was a blood soaked mattress and the bits of gore on his already stained shirt. Not even he could recognize what bits on his shirt were human or dirt.
Brian, humming something that he heard every day on the construction sites he used to work, and totally oblivious to what he had just done, headed toward the plaza eager to fill his belly.
Who was he kidding? He knew what he had just done. And he’d deal with Bonnie later if she dared speak a word of it. With a grin on his face and a kick in his step, Brian pulled the Skoal from his back pocket, slightly confused about what he had done with the previous bit of chew. He remembered putting some in his mouth after putting his pants back on. And that wasn’t more than a moment ago. He wasn’t crazy, but he didn’t remember swallowing it. And if he didn’t swallow it, he wondered where else it could be.
Scratching his head at the matter, Brian smiled, happy with himself. Happy to have shown Bonnie that he owned the homeless community.
Chapter 6
Greg smiled as he thumbed the prescription bottle in his hand, with his arms resting against the bar. The diner had slowed considerably and Peggy Ann got off in just a few minutes. Although she was still on the clock, they spent most of the time chatting at the end of the bar. Occasionally, Peggy Ann would have to assist a customer, but that was about it. The lunch rush was over and all the tables were clean. One of Greg’s choices after skimming through all of the songs, Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis, was playing on the jukebox. Teddy, Peggy Ann’s brother, had already come and gone with his memorabilia for Greg to sign. Two band t-shirts, three albums and even a sticker that hadn’t even been used. Although Greg found it all a little odd, he was happy to sign the kid’s stuff. The entire time he did, Teddy’s eyes were lit up like the fourth of July. If only Teddy realized that Greg wasn’t really a big famous guitar player. The only reason why the young cop had probably heard of his band was simply because they were a regional band. And as he sat there signing all of the stuff, Greg wondered how old Teddy would have been when they were actually playing out. He was probably somewhere between 14 and 19, which made sense. Kids at that age look at anyone on tour and instantly idolize them. Greg hadn’t had the heart to tell him and played it up. So, maybe telling Teddy that the value of the band merchandise would probably triple now that it was signed was a lie, but it made the young cop happy, and that was what mattered. Shortly after that, Teddy, as excited as he was, left in a hurry and didn’t say where he was going or what he was doing. Greg assumed it was to slap all the signed merch up on E-Bay or something. The kid had mentioned it when they were headed to Doc’s last night. So it made sense that he would be heading home to hop on the computer.
But that wasn’t why Greg was smiling as he thumbed at the recently filled prescription.
He was smiling at Peggy Ann. She was just so different compared to Teddy, Doc or any of the other locals he had seen so far. Obviously, she was the only girl he’d come across other than the old couple that had been eating earlier, and the old lady at the bed and breakfast. Just now was when he noticed what it was about her that seemed so different. It clicked as she sat beside him talking about going to college, how she wanted to get out of Grayson, and about how she was fed up with working at the diner. She didn’t have the heavy redneck accent like everyone else. Her words were clear, less slurred.
Greg chuckled, cutting off Peggy Ann’s rant about being ready for something new.
“What? What are you smirking at?”
“Nothing.”
“No, not nothing,” she said. “You’ve had that little grin on your face ever since I sat down.”
“Well, it’s that you don’t sound like the rest of these people.” He waved his arm across the empty bar, and then leaned back stuffing the bottle of pain killers in his front pocket. “You know what I mean?”
“What, like that I don’t love this place?”
“No.” Greg said. “Like your accent. You don’t really have one.”
“Oh,” Peggy Ann laughed. “You mean that redneck jargon that comes out of my brother’s mouth?”
“Yeah, and every other person’s mouth in this town. This place, these people. They’re making me feel like I’m in south Mississippi or Alabama. What’s up with that, and why don’t you sound like that?”
“Because they’re dumb, that’s why. As for me…” Peggy Ann tucked a loose hair behind her ear and smiled while taking a sip of her drink. “Years of practice. I’ve grown up listening to my brother and my dad talk, and I hate it. To me it makes them sound less educated. When I was a little girl my accent was so heavy that some of the older people would make me say certain words. ‘Oh, that’s so cute’, they would say, and then laugh. As I got older and realized why they were getting me to say words like that, I decided I didn’t want to sound like that. I didn’t want to sound, well, ignorant. So, like I said, years of practice.”
“Well, I like the way to talk now. You have a beautiful voice.”
“Aw, thanks, Greg.” Her cheeks flushed red, making Greg’s grin grow even bigger.
“You know. I’ve got to be honest,” Greg said. “And when I say this, I don’t mean it in a bad way, but with a name like Peggy Ann, and the way the rest of this town is, and what your brother said about you, I half expected you to be the most redneck person in this town.”
“Oh? Teddy said stuff about me did he?”
“Well, not really. Mentioned you last night and that I should meet you before I leave town. He was s
o pumped about it because of The Swindlers I guess. Said you would be just as excited to meet me as he was. To be honest, I’m glad you aren’t as high strung as he is.”
“Yeah, Teddy is pretty heavy at times. One of those people you just have to take in stride. Little doses, you know. He really needs to be on Ritalin or something.”
“Exactly. So, if you don’t mind my asking. What’s the deal with him being so obsessive anyway? It’s not like my band was really that big of a deal.”
“I know that, and I’m sure he does too.” She smiled. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t look up to you. When he was still in high school, back before he could drive, I took him to a few shows in the bigger cities outside of Grayson.”
“Oh, really?”
“Well, yeah. When I said I wanted out of this town, I meant it. Soon as I save up enough for it, I’m out of here. But back to Teddy. What teenage kid doesn’t like punk music? And yes, he’s a bit obsessive, but that’s only because he’s always wanted to be a musician. The kid can’t carry a tune in a bucket though. Or however that old saying goes. If that wasn’t bad enough, our dad kind of forced him into the whole cop thing. He gets the obsessiveness from gold ol’ Dad. He’s a little hard on him.”
“So the truth comes out.”
“What do you mean?” Peggy Ann’s eyebrow lifted.
“So when your brother said you were a fan too, it wasn’t true.”
“Oh, come on. No offense, but of course not. I’m a girl. Don’t get me wrong, I liked it, but I am more into stuff like Jonsi and the Weakerthans.”
“Nice,.” Greg applauded. “A woman with taste.”
She smiled.
“Peggy Ann . . . the redneck that doesn’t sound redneck who has an actual taste for real music. Wow, can’t say I would have ever imagined running into someone like you in Grayson.”
“Thank you, I think, and for the record,” Peggy Ann shoved her fists into her hips. “I happen to like my name; it was my momma’s name.”
“Hey now. I didn’t say that I didn’t like it,” Greg protested. “Just saying I expected you to be a lot different; not so cool, not so different, and not so, you know . . . cute.”
“Oh shut up.” She said, playfully patting him on the arm. “I bet you say that to all the diner girls.”
“Just the pretty ones.”
A bell behind them chimed to life as the front door to the diner swung open. The faint, familiar smell of rum drifted in the air. Before Greg had fully turned around to see who had entered the diner, Peggy Ann was on her feet and making her way around the bar. The expression on her face was grim with disgust.
“Ugh. Just when it was almost time for me to clock out, too.” She exhaled, glancing at the neon clock on the wall above the jukebox.
“Who is that?” Greg asked quietly.
Peggy Ann just rolled her eyes and patted her hands on her apron.
Greg checked the time as she had done and then watched the rough looking man sit down at the other end of the bar. He took a sip from his cup, trying to not look too obvious as he watched Peggy Ann walk over with a menu and fresh silverware and napkins. Whoever this guy was, he didn’t look pleasant at all.
“Hurry it up, Princess,” the broad man groaned, slamming a fist on the bar.
“What can I get you, Brian?” Peggy Ann asked, setting down the menu and other things.
“Quit with the cutesy shit and get me a burger, woman! You aughtta know by now what I want when I come into this shitty diner.”
“Of course, the usual.” She replied, softly.
“Well,” Brian demanded, “what the hell you still standing there for. Go put the damn order in! I ain’t got all day. I got places to be.”
“You want me to put it in as a to-go order then?”
“What the hell does this look like, woman? A Sonic? No . . . I’m gonna sit here and eat just like everybody else. You think ‘cause I live on the damn street you can try rushin’ me off like that? Well, do you?”
“No, of course not, Brian.”
“Then get my damn food cookin’ already. I’m starvin’.”
“You going to pay for it this time?” Peggy Ann said.
The cook walked over, tossing a towel over his shoulder. “There a problem here, Brian?”
“Yeah, there is.” Brian pulled the crumpled twenty from him pocket, slapping it on the bar. “This stupid bitch has the nerve to think I ain’t got no money. I earn my money just like the rest of this stupid town. You hear me?”
“Well, what can we get you then? Every honest working citizen of Grayson deserves a decent meal here and there.”
“Exactly.” Brian nodded at the cook. “I want a cheeseburger. Make it snappy.”
“Sure thing, pal.” The cook tapped the bar, and turned to make his way back into the kitchen. He patted Peggy Ann on the shoulder before walking away. “Get this fine citizen whatever he wants to drink. On the house.”
“Yes, sir.” Peggy Ann nodded.
“And don’t be skimpy on them French fries either. You hear me back there?” Brian yelled loud enough for the cook to hear back in the kitchen. Brian looked over at Greg and sneered. “What the hell you lookin’ at, bub?”
Greg looked down at his cup of Dr. Pepper.
“That’s what I thought, bud.” Brian hissed. “Keep to yourself if you know what’s good for you.”
Greg pretended he didn’t hear him.
Not even a few moments after taking the angry man’s order, filling his coffee and bringing his burger with extra fries, the diner’s door swung open again. Peggy Ann’s replacement. An older woman wearing the same work outfit strode into the diner walking behind the counter. Her hair was pinned up in a bun and her makeup was heavy. It did nothing to hide her old age.
“Thank God,” Peggy Ann sighed, looking at the clock and removing her apron. She glanced over her shoulder at the man devouring the bugger at the far end of the bar. “He’s all yours. I’m out.”
“He gonna pay this time?”
“Yeah. Paul already talked to him.” Peggy Ann pointed to the kitchen.
The older waitress nodded, putting her apron on and giving Peggy Ann a hesitant nod before walking over to see if Brian needed a refill on coffee. Peggy Ann punched some buttons on the register, yelled back to the cook that her replacement was in. The cook poked his head out, waving her off. She tossed her apron and a few other things under the bar and took a seat next to Greg, leaned into the bar with her right arm, and sighed. With her free hand, she pulled two bobby-pins from the back of her hair. With a slight shake of the head, her hair dropped down several more inches. Her hair made her neck look longer and her cheeks radiant and youthful. Greg swallowed hard as she looked at him with those deep penetrating green eyes.
“Now what?” Greg asked?
“Changing out of this ridiculous outfit before I do anything else. That’s what.”
“Ah, come on. The 50’s look is a good look for you.”
“Not when I’m off the clock, it’s not. My place isn’t that far from here. You want to go for a walk?”
“I’d love to.” Greg grinned.
As they made their way out of the diner and onto the street corner, Greg couldn’t help but wonder what the hell that dude’s deal was back at the diner. He decided against bringing it up. The day was too beautiful to think about dreadful things like that guy back there. There were hardly any clouds in the sky, leaving things blue and bright. The sun felt good on his neck as they walked down the sidewalk toward what he assumed would be her apartment. They passed the many shops in the plaza. The workout place, Subway, and a few others Greg didn’t even bother glancing at. The breeze was just right, cool and soothing, but not too harsh or windy. The weather reminded Greg of what it used to be like when he went skateboarding as a teenager. Some weather was just perfect for that kind of thing. Nice and warm out, but breezy enough to keep you from really breaking a sweat. He longed for his youthful years. Wishing he could go back to do
it all again. Not that he would change anything. It was just that life moved so fast and he missed skateboarding. He missed the life and the friends he had back then. Now… now it was just too different. He was too old. About a year back, he went to the local skate park in Alexandria and gave it a shot. Here and there, he was still able to do a few things on the board, but his bounce back just wasn’t the same. One fall on the mini half-pipe was all it took. His hip and elbow were sore for weeks from where he had fallen. It used to not be like that. When he was younger, he could handle fall after fall all day long and be ready to go at it the next day as if it was nothing. He sighed, taking in the wonderful weather and the fond memories it brought with it.
Peggy Ann was the first one to break the silence.
“Brian had a lot of nerve, didn’t he?” Her expression seemed defeated and it was clear to Greg that she was still shaken up about the confrontation.
“What? That prick back at the diner? What the hell was his deal anyway? Who was that guy?”
“His name is Brian. He’s newer to town than most of the others. Homeless people give me the creeps.”
“Yeah, the homeless. I was about to say that the dude looked pretty freaking ratty.”
“Yeah. He’s a rat too. I hate him.” She grimaced at the thought of Brian.
“But, isn’t this town a bit small to be having a homeless problem? I mean, it’s not like this is Atlanta or anything. Your brother told me this town hardly has anybody here.”
“That’s true, but we have homeless people here regardless. I don’t know where they came from. No one does. It seems like it’s gotten worse since the plaza opened up. Most of them keep to themselves and the town is okay with that. It’s the ones like Brian who really get under your skin.”
“Seriously? Tell me about it. He was being a dick, and then the cook had the nerve to give him free food. What the hell was that all about?”
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